


CMD:// Purr

by theexile (timeheist)



Category: Tron: Legacy (2010)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-04
Updated: 2012-06-04
Packaged: 2017-11-06 20:34:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/422911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/timeheist/pseuds/theexile
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I have something very special planned for you. Take her upstairs.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Quorra growled. “I have something very special planned for you. Take her upstairs.” That was what Clu – her so called leader – had said, before he’d bid his pet – had Flynn said that he was Tron? – to take her away, upstairs. The way his hands had held her jaw, tenderly hidden the birthmark on her shoulder, and explored up and down her body with his eyes, she didn’t know what to think. But it had made her shiver; ice cold fingers that melted down her spine though neither Rinzler nor Clu touched her there. She didn’t know what to think, but she knew, from what Flynn had told her of Users and what was inappropriate in their world, that it wasn’t right. More so than usual.

But as she’d been dragged away Quorra had growled and struggled and braced her heels against the floor but she didn’t dare protest more than that or it could be the end of her, and with her, Sam and Flynn. Better to occupy the tyrant herself and let her friends – a selfless act like Flynn had always told her about, like the books he’d forced upon her. Quorra preferred to think of herself, if these were to be her final hours, as Professor Von Hardwigg, the hero who had journeyed to the centre of the Earth and back. Stronger than she felt.

There was something about Rinzler, though, and in the way he walked. Quorra couldn’t help but feel he was unlike the other Red Guards – Clu hadn’t just rectified Tron’s programming, he’d somehow broken it. If she caught Rinzler’s outline out of the corner of her eye it was almost as though his electronic DNA was unravelling a bit code at a time. She forced herself not to look; the sight hurt her head, and despite all her bravado, the idea that she was being taken to her doom by the Grid’s saviour threatened to tear her apart.

Instead she let her mind drift and imagined that what was happening to her wasn’t. When Tron threw her to the ground, she imagined she’d fallen off of her first light cycle. When he crossed over the threshold of the room, slammed the door, and dragged her back to her feet, she imagined the day that Flynn had held out his hand to her after he saved her from the Purge. She even reached out, futilely, but Rinzler just grabbed her wrist and jerked her arm back to bring tears to her eyes and force her forward. Quorra grit her teeth, and instead remembered how Zuse had been forced to coax her in to the End of Line the first time he showed her the bar he hoped one day to own.

Oblivious, Rinzler took Quorra’s other arm and dragged the wrists together, sliding a leather band around her elbows that tightened and held her in place, pulsing with familiar orange lights that slowly turned blue when they came into contact with the ISO. He took out another band and put it around her wrists, making sure that she couldn’t use her hands to free herself as he dropped her in place onto what Quorra soon discovered was a bed. Whose bed, she wasn’t sure; zoning out of her predicament, she’d assumed she’d end up on the control deck, ready to be derezzed into some repulsive slave of Clu’s like Rinzler, unknowing and obedient to a fault. Broken.

The comfort of the mattress and the black sheets below her were almost gratifying, after all the bruises she’d sustained fighting Rinzler and the after-pains of the arm she had lost in Zuse’s bar. More worrying, it was very... User. That was the only word Quorra could find for it. The entire room reminded her of something a User might construct to make their time in the Grid more enjoyable, and the ice crawled down her back again. She knew exactly who the room belonged to...

Forcing herself to stay quiet, she pressed her cheek against the sheets and kept her gaze on Rinzler as he paced around her, holding her in place with the eyes she imagined boring into her from underneath his trademark mask. Rinzler didn’t seem to be bothered at all, but the low noise he made seemed somehow angrier when Quorra tried to roll onto her knees, and attempt a rush at the door if nothing else. She got the hint and returned to her reminiscences, burying her face in a pillow by wriggling up the bed on her stomach and closing her eyes tightly. 

Instead of a prison cell she imagined the bed when Zuse had first taken her home and hidden her, the night before smuggling her off of the Grid. Then, when she remembered his betrayal she almost whimpered and turned her head, thinking instead of the night after that, sleeping on Flynn’s bed with her discs in her hands because she refused to trust even the Creator that night, after watching so many of her friend’s being slaughter. Her fingers danced across her back at the memory as she tried to reach for her disc, but she froze again as one of Rinzler’s discs flew over her head, narrowly missing to bounce back into his hand with a shower of sparks. Sighing deeply she curled up into a ball on the bed and did her best to rest for whatever was coming, her screensaver punctuated by horrific images of Sam’s corpse, Flynn’s screams and Clu’s disturbing, Cheshire grin...


	2. Chapter 2

Even with the noise that Clu made re-appearing, it took a while for Quorra’s system to fully reboot and for the ISO to react. Even Flynn’s work on her hard drive had only been a temporary fix-it; she was going to be slow when it came to loading for a cycle or two yet. Her head jerked up and she almost fell off the bed getting to her knees, but Clu’s hand on Rinzler’s chest stopped him from attacking her to keep her in place. Quorra’s relief lasted only a few seconds before she remembered where she was, and felt the bindings around her arms. While she was sleeping another leather strip had been clipped between her wrists that kept her from moving away from the large, suddenly threatening expanse of the bed. She looked around until she found the source of Clu’s voice, noting how similar the room was to Flynn’s, only in inverse. Her eyes narrowed.

“See man, I told you she’d wake up soon.” Quorra doubted Rinzler had shown any doubt in Clu’s words and wondered if he could even speak at all; she’d only ever heard that one noise from him. No, Clu’s show – she was sure – was all for her benefit or more likely humiliation, and to stroke the powerful Program’s ego. If possible, her eyes narrowed further, and she took Clu’s silence as a chance to manoeuvre herself into the same position Flynn sat in when he was knocking on the sky (to hear the sound), hoping to keep her own zen together in the face of her enemy. She only cringed a little when Clu sat down on the bed beside her, Rinzler standing only two feet behind him. “You had me worried doll.”

“Doll?” Quorra couldn’t help herself; the word meant nothing to her. She’d read it in a book but it hadn’t seemed important enough for her to ask Flynn to explain it for her. She tipped her head on her side questioningly and Clu burst into almost mad laughter, slapping his thigh and looking over his head at Rinzler.

“Man she tips her head on the side just like you!” He wiped a pretend tear from his eye and controlled his mirth – Rinzler remaining a statue – and gripped Quorra’s shoulder just a little too tightly for comfort. “Doll, doll. You know, like my man Flynn says man or dude, except, like, you’d be a dudette. Got it?” Quorra scowled in response and shook her head curtly; Clu sighed dramatically. “It’s a term of endearment. Also? It’s like you’re my doll.” He squeezed her shoulder then let go, standing back again and appraising her intently. “My toy.”

Toy. She knew that word, but she didn’t understand Clu’s context. She was about to ask him what he meant when she noticed the blue identity disc swinging proudly from his outstretched fingers. Quorra went pale; or felt she did, her thoughts slipping immediately to whose disc could have Clu looking quite so smug. Should she have stayed with Flynn, taken better care of the Creator and his son? Clu sensed her interest and watched as her head straightened up again and for the first time, she struggled, remaining ever as silent as she had ever been in Clu’s company. He tsked when she finally exhausted herself and rested against the head of the bed, glaring at him.

“What did you do to the Creator?”

“Flynn?” Quorra’s words stole Clu’s moment of triumph away from him and he fiddled with the disc in his hand, his knuckles turning white with his rising anger. He turned to face Rinzler rather than show the imperfection of his mistake to the ISO. “No, man, this isn’t Flynn’s, is it?” He tossed the disc to Rinzler, who held it up to his face with an indifferent air. As the other Program studied the hologram that rose from the disc Quorra’s heart sank. “He’s still messing with my thing!”

“Sam.” Quorra swallowed warily, her voice even quieter than before. “Is Sam-?”

“Sam? Well,” Clu shrugged, and snatched the disc back from Rinzler with a dismissive jerk of his head. “He wasn’t very happy to see me doll.” Rinzler took a reverent step back, and Clu smirked once again, more content than before. “Find the Creator. Bring him here, I want tht disc and it’ll destroy his groove if he sees his son-“

“Don’t you dare fucking hurt him!”

Clu’s hand snapped out. The slap made Quorra’s ears ring but she held strong, the binary in her face rearranging until the skin had turned a darker shade of pink. Programs couldn’t blush but it was a testament to Flynn’s sentimentality that he’d done his best to make them feel human. Her eyes watered of their own accord, and Clu turned away angrily, waggling his fingers as though surprised by his actions. He flung out his hand aggressively at the door, pointing where Rinzler should go. “Well, what are you waiting for man!?” Rinzler nodded once, and with his exit left the Yin to the Yang of Clu and Quorra; the calm to their storm. When he turned his head back to his captive ISO she was on her knees again and defiantly trying to break herself free of her restraints. He snorted, then sneered. “Language, language.”

“Sam’s new to all of this; he doesn’t know the Grid!”

“Oh?” Clu’s feigned ignorance when unnoticed by the suddenly passionate Quorra, “All the derezzing he’s done, that’s nothing? And man, can the kid ride a light cycle!”

“This isn’t his fight.”

“He made it his fight when he joined in the game.” His gaze turned dark, “A new player on the board, and he had to learn to go with the flow, doll. Sam just couldn’t cut it.”

Quorra suppressed a gasp. “He’s-?”

“Alive and kicking, with my guards.” Clu laughed loudly, “Well, for now. Flynn’ll come back for his son, yeah, but who knows what he’ll fin-“

“Take me instead.”

Quorra’s words caught Clu off guard, and he took his hand away from his hair with a raised eyebrow. Leaving his mop truly mussed he raised the other eyebrow too, and leaned over the bed, placing both hands down on the mattress and leaning into Quorra’s personal space. Her eyes flashed warningly but he didn’t pull back, and as an idea crossed his mind his lip curled ominously, dangerously. He hummed and straightened up slightly, stretching out one hand to grab hold of Quorra’s chin, keeping her from turning her gaze away from him. Rinzler had returned to the room, supposedly with some kind of news, but Clu was grinning too broadly, staring at Quorra too intently to care.

“The ISO’s life for the User’s?” purred Clu. “How fitting.” He brushed his thumb across Quorra’s throat, and she swallowed with narrowed eyes and a nod. Selflessness. Just like Flynn had taught her. Clu paused, thinking, then nodded and snatched his hand back, letting Quorra breathe again. “I accept. Rinz!” He turned suddenly, arms outspread magnanimously, and Rinzler’s purr seemed to intensify. “Did you find him?” Rinzler shook his head curtly. “Good. Go get Sam and give him the message for Flynn.” Clu turned and leered down at Quorra again, and she dropped her head with resignation. “We have the last of the ISOs.”


	3. Chapter 3

Rinzler nodded, sent to relay the message and let Sam go, and the door slid shut behind him. Sam’s disc remained hanging mockingly in Flynn’s hands, until he tossed it haphazardly to the bedside table. Quorra groaned as she heard the locking mechanism click and beep into place, then turned to face her executioner, lifting her chin defiantly. It was no secret how much Clu loathed the ISOs; they were an imperfection in his eyes, Flynn had said, attempting to explain away Clu’s crimes and blame himself instead. If she had traded her life for Sam’s and Clu was Flynn enough to keep his side of the bargain, then there was no way she would be alive when Flynn came to get her. She had saved Sam’s life, and maybe with his son by his side the Creator would be able to end this tyranny and restore the Grid to its former glory but Quorra would never see it. That didn’t mean she was going down without a fight in her eyes. She glared at Clu as he crouched down in front of her, always keeping himself above her level.

“Brave move doll. Flynn would be proud.”

“Go to hell.”

“Did he teach you that language too?” Clu straightened up with a disapproving look and paced around Quorra until he was between the bed and the wall, leaning over her shoulder. Quorra jerked her head around quickly to see what he was doing but in a flash he had a hold of the cable between her wrists, and had jerked it back rudely. As it came unwrapped from the end of the bed Quorra tried to leap up and turn around but Clu had his hand under her chin again, this time stroking and curling his fingers up until they danced across her throat. Not letting her turn her head – she thought – to meet her fate in the eye, he leaned over to whisper in her ear. “I could do a lot better.”

“Just get it over with.” Quorra grit her teeth and forced herself to stay still and let Clu do what he had to do. She wasn’t going to beg. No matter what Clu wanted off.

“Get what over what?”

Clu looked genuinely confused, and with a grimace, Quorra took advantage of his lapse in attention to shuffle away from him on the bed, pulling the ‘leash’ out of his hands. He scowled but let her move, satisfied that with Flynn’s morals she wouldn’t run and risk betraying her friends. He rolled his eyes, unimpressed; ISOs barely deserved to be Programs, let alone to behave as though they were Users. Even a Codified Likeness Utility like himself was still, when all was said and done, a series of bits and bytes like almost everybody else inside the Grid. The ISO and the Program stared each other down – one smirking and one scowling – until finally, Quorra broke the silence, the lights on her suit throbbing with the tension.

“Derezzing me.”

“Oh, I’m not going to kill you.” Clu tipped his head onto one side mockingly, and looped the end of the leash around his hand a couple of times as he walked, his smirk growing into a compelling, insane grin. “You promised me your life for the son of Flynn’s. I never said what I was going to do with it.”

What happened next happened in a flash, before Quorra was even sure how to respond. The bonds around her elbows and wrists snapped open at a single touch from Clu, leaving her free, but the black leather around his hand brushed teasingly across her chest as Clu managed to straddle her waist, restraining her in place on the bed. Quorra forced her hips up to protest but Clu only tsked calmly, making a loop out of the leather band and pulling it back around her neck until she didn’t dare move for breathing. It wasn’t too tight – Clu didn’t seem to be trying to hurt her – but it was there in place, a reminder that if he had the whim, he could derezz her in an instant. Like all of Flynn’s books, it was the villains who had the power and the villains who were oh... so...

Quorra hadn’t realised what Clu was doing with her circuits. His free hand was on her identity disc, stroking in calm, comforting circles over and over her back that made her want to growl and curse and shrink away from him but whatever he was doing with the disc... No, that shouldn’t have felt so good. His grip on the leash relaxed as Quorra sank into the bed, her head tipping back of its own volition a single, momentary purr escaped through her parted lips. Grinding his hips against her and adding that touch of the User to whatever he was doing Clu caught her growl with a bite, nibbling on Quorra’s bottom lip as she writhed and the lights on her suit started dimming and glowing erratically. A few seconds continued – with Quorra unsure of whether she wanted to head butt him or moan – before she came to her senses and snapped into motion again, managing to knock Clu away from her. His eyes narrowed but his smile stayed in place as he pinned her wrists in one large, strong hand and shook his head condescendingly.

“This could be so good, doll, beyond your wildest dreams!” There was a hint of mocking in Clu’s words, but also a sense of repetition, as though he had heard the words himself and was recounting them for her benefits. Quorra tipped her head as Clu’s fingers drew away from her identity disc and she momentarily snapped into her own being. “Just... Relax. Go with the flow. It’ll all be over soon.” Again, Clu drew his hands over her neck, loosing his noose for the second it took to discern whether or not she would try to escape. Confused and disorientated by the new signals that Clu was sending to her programming Quorra stayed still and Clu leaned in to mouth at her neck, elated when she moulded her body up against his automatically.

“What is-“

“I’m doing you a favour.” His hands moved like lightning and a fresh wave of electricity chased down Quorra’s body, lighting up her circuits as good as any fire. Her stomach clenched and the Program writhed against the bed, desperate for the friction with Clu’s body that she knew Users craved with each other as the male Program experimented with the new, alien ISO technology she had. “Could have just killed you. No, man, I’m making you perfect.”

He licked the side of her neck as if to prove his point, and patted the side of Quorra’s cheek as she closed her eyes and finally, moaned deeply, wound up like a slinky. It hadn’t been this good, not since Zuse. Flynn had spoken of his ex-wife and briefly – with red cheeks – about how Users made love but it was nothing to Programs. For them, it was all about the circuits and the programming, triggers than ran certain processes that were picked up by certain receivers and electrical currents. It was a system overload that came to Programs like orgasm did to the Users in some of Flynn’s books and somehow, Flynn’s invasive stroking of her body and manipulating of her identity disc was having the same effect. Especially when he combined tickling her hardware with reordering how the Grid relayed ‘senses’ to her body. Her back arched as she whimpered, shouting something she couldn’t even recall, and another ragged – this time longer – purr ripped out of her body.

That seemed to please Clu. Quorra was no longer struggling; instead, she was revelling in the feelings of Clu’s hybrid of User and Program intercourse. The ecstasy in her binary code fought for dominance over the almost fizzing sensations against her skin from Clu’s free hand probing her throat and her chest, lingering and tiptoeing between her legs. As Clu had greater success with her code and Quorra was lost further to the invasion of her synapses, her purring became more prominent, more prolonged, and more pliable.

Clu’s grin widened as he moved his mouth from her neck to her own lips, wetting them where she’d groaned herself hoarse and kissing deeply. That was the final straw, and Quorra twitched once, circuits over-heated, and slumped down against the bed with a confused grin on her face. Clu waved his hands in front of her eyes with a chuckle and then unclipped her disc at last, balancing it on the bed and putting the final adjustments to the re-programming. Even unconscious, Quorra’s purr was loud and clear. “Now that’s what I’m talking about!”

He let her reboot before testing his theory, reeling off a petty string of commands and then finally telling Quorra to lie down beside him. He put one of his arms behind his head with a proud hum, staring at the roof. Reprogramming Quorra had been as much a success as reprogramming Tron had been. He just needed to think of a new name as catchy as Rinzler and man, he was in the money! “Your move old friend.” Clu chuckled, and stroked the back of Quorra’s head until she rested it in his lap, purring just like Rinzler. “I have the Son of Flynn,” He smirked; he didn’t make deals with ISOs. “And your girl,” Clu wasn’t sure if Quorra had replaced Jordan, but it felt good to think he’d stolen someone just as important away from Flynn. “And you? You’re all on your own.” He growled, pushed Quorra onto her back, and straddled her stomach with a furious grace. “Your disc is mine!”


End file.
